


5 Times Spock and McCoy Couldn't Get Away From the Crew

by OnlySlightlyObsessed1



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, I wrote this really fast and it's decidedly meh, M/M, it's a very subtle au, spones - Freeform, that I explain in needless depth in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16163036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySlightlyObsessed1/pseuds/OnlySlightlyObsessed1
Summary: and one time they had a nice evening anyways.





	5 Times Spock and McCoy Couldn't Get Away From the Crew

**Author's Note:**

> The only thing you need to know to read this is that Spock and McCoy are experienced Starfleet officers and basically everyone else is barely not a cadet anymore. 
> 
> If you want to know the unnecessarily long version that has no bearing on this fic whatsoever, here it is:
> 
> Spock and McCoy are older than most of the crew, the Enterprise was piloted as a training ship, most of the crew picked as cadets in their final year, the exceptions being Pike as Captain, Spock as science officer (while they’re in training he’s like a backup first officer, Kirk is the one training for it, but if Pike literally dies they aren’t throwing the weight of the ship on Kirk in reality), and McCoy as CMO. (Scotty’s a weird double case, he’s an accomplished engineer in his own right before Starfleet, so he’s given chief engineer position despite technically being a cadet). They take the cadet crew (everyone else) out on mini missions throughout the year, the idea being by the time the cadets graduate they’ll all go out together as a fully fledged crew. This master plan is foiled somewhat by Nero destroying Vulcan (but there’s no time travel, it’s just the Romulans way of starting a war), so after a revised version of Star Trek 2009, Pike retires, Kirk becomes Captain, and the whole crew go out on a 5 year mission. Roll fic. 
> 
> (Addendum, the whole, Spock as back up Captain thing fails spectacularly because Pike goes missing during the destruction of Vulcan, and when Spock’s mom dies and his planet is destroyed McCoy makes the executive decision as CMO and Spock’s bf to declare him unfit for duty and Cadet Kirk has to deal with a war anyways.)

1\. Shore leave, a night out

“It is unlikely, should they even be interested in such an activity, that we will see them tonight.” Spock said.

“It’s not that big of a theater,” McCoy replied, “but I doubt they want to see us anyways, even Jim sometimes looks at me like I’m some kind of authority figure. They’re still just kids.”

“Our presence would surely impose an unwanted formality,” said Spock. McCoy nodded in absent agreement. His program slipped and fell under the seat. Quaint, almost, to have printer plastic programs instead of holos in the seats. McCoy disentangled his hand with Spock’s and twisted around to reach under his seat to grab it again.

“It is welcome to have some semblance—” Spock’s voice cut off and McCoy returned to upright with program in hand to see nine surprised former cadet’s staring at them. Spock’s mouth pinched in irritation that was probably only visible to McCoy. McCoy hastily stifled a laugh. “to have some semblance of privacy,” he’d bet money that that was what Spock had been about to say. It wasn’t often they got to go on a proper sort of date. Well it wasn’t happening that night either, apparently. 

“Good evening,” Spock said, and to his credit there was no hint of irritation in his voice. They stood and McCoy tried not to start laughing again as Sulu, then Chekov, Riley, Rand, Chapel, Uhura, Keenser, Scotty, and finally Jim filed past them into the empty row of seats like kids of a field trip. The weird formal silence that fell over them as they all sat down made him bite his lip. Jim noticed anyways.

“What’s so funny?” He asked amid the awkward fusing with jackets that was happening several seats down. 

“Nothing, you just, I’m sure you were looking forward to night off the clock, and now y’all are acting like you’ve bumped into your professors at the bar.” McCoy said. He ignored Spock’s disapproving look. “We’re off the clock too, even us old fogeys like to have fun now and then.”

“We are neither old nor fogeys Doctor,” Spock chimed in, and McCoy took the bait for an argument. It would put the kids at ease, he figured.

“Oh, you know what I mean, Jim’s twenty four! Twenty four year old’s don’t talk about the political impacts of the new research on silicone based life forms on their first night off in six months.” That was in fact, what they’d been talking about on the shuttle ride over. “They, I don’t know, have fun, and talk about other things, indulge themselves like the carefree children they are!” McCoy said, floundering a little, trying to remember what he had done at twenty four. 

“By that logic, Doctor, you were hardly a proper twenty-four-year-old.” Spock replied. Their discussion wasn’t exactly freeing the kids up to chat, but at least they listened with some amused interest instead of seeming embarrassed.

“Oh you’re one to talk, Commander, you ran away to join the navy, by the time you were twenty four you had all the regulations memorized in that perfect Vulcan brain of yours.”

“Is not every one of us a member of this ‘navy’? How would describe your entrance to Starfleet?”

“Excuse you Mr. Spock it was a carefully planned career move—”

“I believe you described it to me once as a ‘tactical retreat’—” as the argument devolved the rest of the group did seem to lose interest somewhat and begin to talk among themselves. As engrossed as they all were by the performance, no one was paying any attention to the fact that McCoy’s arm draped over the wrong side of the armrest or that Spock was leaning over into McCoy’s body space so their shoulders brushed. It wasn’t the worst date, all in all. 

 

2\. Dinner, a night in

For the most part, they ate in the officer’s mess along with everyone else. Spock worked two half shifts in order to be present for their arrival at the binary star system they were observing, and once he was satisfied they had passed the point of needing his expertise, he left his science team in charge of monitoring. Since he was off half a shift earlier than Leonard, and he had plenty of time to prepare a non-replicated dinner. 

In the privacy of Leonard’s quarters Leonard would indulge him with smiles and casually affectionate touches that he firmly withheld while in the company of the crew. 

“ . . . Chapel’s actually amazing, I told her to go for a doctorate or an MD, I’m hardly one to talk about letting your personal life impact your career, and she’s still young of course . . .”

Spock made the necessary polite interjections and listened with interest. It was useful to have knowledge of the crew’s particular talents and future career intentions. Leonard’s feet bracketed his ankle. A peculiar human activity reserved for couples or used to signal romantic interest. Leonard called it footsie, Spock found it pleasing. 

The door chimed and the relaxed contentment in Leonard’s face that Spock had been admiring was replaced by tension in his shoulders and a mix of concern and irritation in his expression. Leonard spent entirely too much time working, Spock thought, it was hardly fair for him to be interrupted in his off hours as well. 

“I'll get it.” Leonard said as he got up. The door opened and Jim entered.

“Where’s the fire?” Leonard asked. Spock got up as well. 

“No fire,” Jim looked slightly awkward. “I was just wondering where you were, since you weren’t at the mess, can’t have my Chief Medical Officer skipping dinner!” A social call then, Spock supposed it was reasonable that Jim should be attentive to the whereabouts of senior crew, especially considering he and they were becoming friends. For some reason, this logical explanation failed to hold its usual appeal.

“Well that’s kind of you,” Leonard was saying, “you’re welcome to join us.”

“I didn’t mean to—” Jim began, and Spock gave up the evening as a lost cause.

“We were discussing the various combinations of strengths the crew possess, perhaps you have some input?” Spock said, swapping his chair for a stool as Leonard cleared a space and got Jim a plate. Jim did indeed have interesting insights into crew dynamics, but Leonard’s feet stayed firmly planted under his own chair.

 

3\. A walk(nap) in the moon(star)light.

It was dark and silent in the observation lounge when Chekov entered, empty, as he had presumed. When Commander Spock stood up from the low couch seating he nearly had a heart attack. 

“Good evening Ensign,” he said quietly and Chekov gasped in surprise, which started him coughing again. Doctor McCoy’s head popping up from the couch as well wasn’t quite as shocking, mostly because he was too distracted by trying to breathe. 

“Alright there Chekov?” McCoy asked after a moment, and Chekov nodded helplessly as he regained his breath.

“Yes, I am alright Doctor McCoy. I was only surprised, I am sorry Mister Spock, I did not think anyone would be in here in the dark.” He said. He had wanted to try the new live mapping they’d gotten installed at the last Starbase, but he’d gotten hit with the flu that had gone around and hadn’t gotten the chance. 

“I wished to facilitate the Doctor’s rest.” Mr. Spock said, and Chekov glanced at Doctor McCoy briefly in confusion, his hair was sticking up to one side and he had a red indentation on his cheek, from the couch, presumably. Of course, Chekov thought, Doctor McCoy had been working double shifts (the Captain had had to reprogram the computer to stop him doing triple, Sulu had told him), while the whole ship was flattened by the illness. 

“I wasn’t asleep.” Doctor McCoy protested. Chekov shifted his weight back and forth in indecision. Spock and McCoy had begun arguing. 

“Did you come all the way up here just to stand by the door?” Doctor McCoy addressed him suddenly and he barely managed not to jump, having been about to make a strategic exit. 

“N-no sir,” He said, “I wanted to try the live mapping of the stars.”

“It is a fascinating program,” Mister Spock began, Doctor McCoy groaned and flopped back out of view behind the couch, Mister Spock ignored him. Chekov was not quite as starstruck in Spock’s presence as some of the other Ensigns, but to have the Commander not only walk him through the various applications of the mapping system, but also talk with him about other scientific studies the Enterprise was engaged in along with showing an interest in Chekov’s studies was the best thing to happen to him since getting assigned to the Enterprise in the first place. 

Spock pitched his voice quieter, and when Chekov glanced over, the Doctor appeared to be asleep again, curled up on the couch. 

 

4\. Comfort

Chapel paged through the charts as she made her rounds. It had been a particularly dangerous mission and the entire landing party had ended up in their sickbay. Doctor McCoy was decidedly unhappy. Mister Chekov hadn’t been badly burned, he was discharged and could be crossed off her list. She did so. Doctor Marcus was still in need of her fifth hour check on the regenerated muscle and then Doctor McCoy could send her on her way as well. Security Officer Daniels was in stasis, Doctor McCoy wouldn’t have time to get to an autopsy until the next day.  
Of course, Mister Spock was set to stay the night, losing that much blood and half one’s liver did that to a person. She heard them before she saw them. 

“Doctor,” Spock said,

McCoy’s rant continued and Chapel turned the corner and suppressed a sigh.

“—you’ll be more cooperative. Do you know that we’re completely out of any more blood for you? I’m not certifying you medically fit to go anywhere further than the bathroom until I’ve got at least enough to get you through another injury.”

“Doctor,” Chapel interrupted. Spock was laying on the biobed, perfectly still, she never could tell what he was feeling. McCoy fussed with the things surrounding him. Straightening the bedsheets, adjusting the sensors, upping the temperature.

“Yes Nurse,” McCoy said. 

“Doctor Marcus is waiting for you to sign her off, she only needs the last test.” Chapel said. “I’ll make sure Mister Spock is comfortable.”

McCoy looked irritated, normal enough for him, and he only nodded in acknowledgement before making his way to the next room to see to Doctor Marcus. She saw Spock watch him go. Well Spock knew better than to go putting himself in the line of fire, but McCoy knew to give his patients some peace and quiet. She should see that he got some rest himself.

“Is there anything I can do for you Mister Spock?” She asked. 

“No thank you Nurse. There are twenty two minutes left on your shift, correct?” Spock replied.

“Yes,” she said. She did a final look over the settings and readouts from his biobed, but McCoy was nothing if not thorough. “If you need anything, just ask. If there’s no one in the room, the intercom button will connect you with whoever’s in the rooms over.”

“I am familiar with the routine in sickbay.” Spock said, and closed his eyes. He would be. She stared at the closets along the far side of the room. They needed restocking. 

 

McCoy came back ten minutes before her shift ended with a tray.

“I’ve cleared Doctor Marcus, she’s on restricted hours until at least her check in tomorrow.” He told her.

“Thank you Doctor. Your shift was over an hour and a half ago, you should return to your quarters.” She said.

“An hour and thirty-four minutes ago.” Spock said. “She is quite correct Doctor.”  
McCoy set the tray down next to Spock’s bed.

“With the amount of blood you lost I’ll stay in the office tonight. And you’ll drink this, it’s to rehydrate you.” He said. 

Chapel decided not to push the issue. At least it appeared he had brought his own dinner on the tray as well, and he had some intention of sleeping. She didn’t envy Spock, McCoy usually let recovery take a bit longer and went with periodic hypos, the rehydration fluid was more efficient, but absolutely horrible tasting. She left them too it as she refilled their supplies. When her shift ended minutes later and Nurse Cary relieved her McCoy was still sitting by Spock, intermittently encouraging him to drink. 

 

5\. Movie night

“—among sub-vocal languages. This concept is difficult to convey in most vocal languages due to—” Commander Spock was watching her again. Uhura wasn’t sure why. Ostensibly, he and Doctor McCoy were playing some kind of memory game with cards as they had been when she’d come in. She hadn’t been paying them much attention, but this might have been their third or fourth round. She had put the privacy headset on when they came in, but maybe the screen was disturbing their concentration. Spock looked back to his game. 

 

“Sorry to interrupt you Uhura,” Doctor McCoy said some time later as he tapped her on the shoulder.

“Not at all Doctor,” she said.

“Will it distract you if we put on a movie?” He asked, she glanced over his shoulder to see Spock carefully straightening the cards as he put them back in their box.

“No,” she said honestly. The privacy headset would block the ambient audio, and she could always turn her back to the big screen if she needed. “What are you watching?”

“Thanks,” he said, and offered her a slight smile. “I have no idea, Spock?”

“It’s translated title is ‘The Day in the Shade of the Sun” it is a modern rendition of a classic Andorian folk tale.” Spock said.

“Oh wonderful, I bet its only got subtitles.” McCoy grumbled, but it seemed to be more for show than anything. 

“Indeed, Doctor.” Was Spock’s singular response. 

“Can I join you?” Uhura asked. She was fluent in Andorian, and it was always fun to compare subtitles to the original texts or audio.

“Why not?” McCoy said, and he walked over to help Spock switch the table into its configuration as floor seating. Uhura saved her progress and ejected her module on conceptual translation. McCoy had settled down in the middle of the bench, she took a spot on his left and he offered her a small packet of Earth chocolate, real, non-replicated. She took it, barely remembering to murmur a shocked “thank you”. He had to have brought it from Earth, or else paid a fortune for it four months ago at their latest stop for resupplies. He winked at her. 

She savored the chocolate through out the movie. Midway through she heard plastic crinkle and saw McCoy breaking a piece in half and offering it to Spock. 

 

+1. Camping

“It’s going to be fun!” Jim said, beaming at them. Spock looked as skeptical as McCoy felt. “It’s a good bonding exercise for our senior crew, I have it on good authority that unified senior officers are good for crew morale.”

“That is undoubtedly true, however, I fail to see how sleeping outside in the cold is the best opportunity for social bonding.” Spock said, and McCoy couldn’t let that stand.

“It’s camping Spock, time honored human tradition. You’ve got to try it at least once, it builds character.”

“See?” Jim put a hand on McCoy’s shoulder. “Bones is on my side.” Spock only lifted an eyebrow. 

 

Everyone clapped when Uhura finished singing, and it was hard to tell in the dim firelight but she might have been blushing slightly.

“You should do a sing a long in the rec room sometime.” Sulu said. There was a chorus of agreement. 

“Who’s next then?” Jim said. McCoy expected laughter, after Uhura’s performance no one else was going to volunteer. 

“Perhaps the Doctor will share one of his most illogical tunes.” Spock said before anyone else could reply, and McCoy glared at him. “I am led to believe that is inherent to campfire music.”

“I didn’t know you could sing Bones!” Jim said, sounding delighted. 

“I can’t” McCoy replied, “and I certainly can’t follow Uhura.”

“It’ll be an awfully short night if no one else wants to sing,” Uhura said, and McCoy found himself beset by the entire circle pleading with him to preform. 

“Oh alright, alright,” McCoy finally gave in. “Thanks a lot Spock.”

“You’re quite welcome Leonard.” Spock replied. Right, McCoy’s mediocre signing wasn’t the only thing they intended to reveal. Not that Spock had warned him he planned to volunteer him to sing. 

“Alright, y’all can sing the chorus with me, it’s damned simple, it comes first and then after every verse.” He said, cleared his throat once, and started off a bit nervously. 

“You get a line, I’ll get a pole, honey . . .

“Now the first verse, Hurry up babe, you slept to late, honey . . .

“And now the chorus again, You get a line, I’ll get a pole, honey . . .

“ . . . Honey, oh baby, mine.”

There were a few laughs and nods of acknowledgement as the song finished.

“That illogical enough for you Mister Spock?” McCoy couldn’t help but ask. 

“Entirely.” Spock said. His hands were tucked under his armpits. McCoy frowned. It was a good a way as any other. 

“You’re cold. I told you you should have worn another layer.” McCoy said.

“While the temperature is lower than I might prefer, I am adequately warm.” Spock said, and as if in response, the wind picked up and McCoy shivered. 

“Right.” He said, and reached behind the log he was leaning on for his blanket roll. “C’mere.” Spock hesitated for a moment, so McCoy opened his arms and scooted back a bit. “C’mere,” he said again, and this time Spock got up and climbed over Jim to sit between McCoy’s legs.

McCoy wrapped the outer blanket over both of them and settled them back against the log, Spock’s head resting against his shoulder and Spock’s legs against his own. Everyone stared at them. McCoy took his queue from Spock to completely ignore the confused silence that had settled over the group. Spock was digging around in his jacket. He produced a small metal contraption.

“Marshmellon?” He said, offering one to McCoy. Everyone kept staring. 

“What?” McCoy leaned back slightly to get a better look. “Where in the hell did you get that?”

“I programed the ships replicators to provide it for us, I understand it’s a traditional part of this ‘camping’. I will roast it for you.” Spock said. “Would anyone else like one?”

The was a short silence and then Jim broke it saying, “I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

“It’s not our fault you don’t read your crew’s personal files Jim.” McCoy responded. “You’ll need a stick if you want to roast that thing, or do have one of those stuffed in your coat too?”

“Wait, no, back up. What exactly is in your personal files and for how long?” Jim sounded a tiny bit hysterical. 

“The Doctor and I registered our relationship with Starfleet when it became of a serious nature five years ago, as is appropriate. I neglected to bring a marshmellon stick, Leonard, will a wooden stick suffice?” Spock said. 

“So this whole time,” Jim continued, the rest of the group watching rapt, “the whole mission so far, we’ve been waiting for you two to figure yourselves out, meanwhile you’ve been together for five years and never thought to mention it?”

“Six years,” McCoy said. Spock stood up, presumably to go find a stick for his marshmellon, (marshmellon? Who taught him that?) and McCoy made an unhappy noise as cold air entered the warmth of the blanket. Apparently, his statement was sufficient for the group’s silence to be broken because he heard several incredulous or maybe exasperated murmurs around the circle.  


Jim threw his hands up, “Right.” He looked around the circle, “Who else wants a marshmallow stick?”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Five Times McCoy Hunted For A Perfect Place To Sleep And The One Time He Found It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16197359) by [StellarLibraryLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady)




End file.
